Life in the Philippines

Greeting the motherland at Cark Airport

My first trip to the Philippines took place when I was about 2 or 3 years old. I don't remember much from that trip aside from a vague meeting with a pet parrot named Tikoy. I remember much more from a trip when I was in elementary school. I had a lot of questions about what it would be like to ride in an airplane. I dry heaved over one of my in flight meals, and my sister made fun of me about it for years. (I hope she doesn't read this). I brought two Baby Sitters Club books that I read over and over again, and I traced invisible connect the dot lines on the mosquito bites on my legs. As uncomfortable as I was in the heat, the memories are still pleasant ones.

35 years and about half a dozen trips to the islands later, I am once again in my parents' homeland. The circumstances are different, of course, because I'm not here just for a 2-week vacation but to be present to my family in the place they called home before immigrating to the United States. A lot of things have changed since the 90s when I made my first trips to the popular tourist spots like 100 Islands and Baguio City, but the Filipino spirit remains the same.

Breakfast with family often includes visits from the 11 dogs on the property. George had no manners when this was taken.

The lifestyle here is so much more laid back than in the United States. My days here aren't so much about productivity as they are about enjoying time with family. Perhaps this is because I don't have the pressure of a going into an office right now, but I've noticed that my cousins who are still tied to a regular schedule laugh, joke, and celebrate a lot more that I did back home. There are still bills to pay and responsibilities to tend to, but they don't come first on the to-do list. Those things can wait because relationships are so much more important.

Food is definitely meant to be enjoyed in community. Wherever Filipinos are gathered, expect to be fed well. I've eaten some of the best seafood I've ever had here, including a feast on a boat cruise. The Philippines is by no means a wealthy country, but I've found that people will give you anything you ask for. There have been days when we've expressed a craving for a certain food only to find it was on the menu for the next meal. There are food vendors everywhere you turn, and it's always meryenda time. Calorie-counting isn't a thing here, and there's no shame in asking for seconds (or thirds). I've heard people joke that the love language of the Philippines is food, and if that's the case, they certainly love their people well!

It may seem like I'm sugarcoating what life has been like here. But as with everything, my days here aren't perfect. Aside from the emotional stress of mourning my mom and continuing to take care of my dad, there are other daily inconveniences. It's hot. I used to say that I prefer the humidity to the dry heat of Eastern Washignton, but it can get pretty intense, and when the air conditioning is out because of another blackout, it can be really uncomfortable. (And if you've esen the storms and earthquakes on the news, yes...I have felt the effects, albeit minimal, of both) The plumbing system could be better. I'm reminded of this every time I throw toilet paper into the trash instead of the toilet and when I walk down the streets to be greeted by rubble where workers are (supposedly) trying to clear the sewers of debris. I still struggle with the language, and it's easy to get frustrated when the natives can switch from one dialect to another without even thinking about it. There's a lot of slow moving traffic because of delays in infrastructure repairs. I miss having a car and the freedom to go wherever I want whenver I want. We rely a lot on public transportation on the busses and tricycles. The busses can get crowded, but I enjoy a good tricycle ride.

Mural at 100 Islands

I love it here. The people generously give whatever they have, and I can tell they anticipate what I may need before I even know I will need it. They're never in a rush, and there's always time to rest. The Catholic faith is very much alive, and that helps me feel "at home." But as happy as I am to be with family, I have to admit that I miss my life in the US. I miss my friends and the families I worked with, but when I'm especially down, I remember this from the Book of Ecclesiastes:

"Where one alone may be overcome, two together can resist. A three-ply cord is not easily broken. "

- Ecclesiastes 4:12

This verse came to me in prayer when I was contemplating the challenge of being American born with Filipino parents who wanted to retire in the Philippines. How could it be that I was holding onto these two identities and still asking who I truly am? I can't figure it out alone; nor am I meant to. I've had my personal experiences, and I braid that with my family here in the Philippines and my friends there in the United States. Sure, things get tangled up sometimes, but I am so much stronger this way than I would be as a single thread.